


breakfast of champions

by gxtitobxby



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dacryphilia, Daddy Kink, F/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, dom!james potter, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 12:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30122994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxtitobxby/pseuds/gxtitobxby
Summary: the one where james wants you to sit on his face but you are shy
Relationships: James Potter/Reader, Marauders (Harry Potter)/Reader
Kudos: 22





	breakfast of champions

**“ _please,_ baby. I promise it’ll be good, promise you’re gonna love it.”**

The soft rays of sunshine are barely sneaking through the curtains, the sun only recently having poked its head from behind the horizon. It’s warm in the room, which explains why he’s naked except for the dark maroon briefs that cling to his body, soft wispy hairs forming a delicate little trail that disappears into the waistband.

James has you straddling him, stripped from the waist down thanks to the events that took place the night before, his hands are gripping your hips giving you an encouraging squeeze as he whines for you to give in. There’s still traces of sleep in your eyes, movements slow and lazy; and yet, he can feel the nerves radiating from you, bottom lip caught between your teeth and fidgeting hands gripping at the shirt ( _his_ ) that ends right under the swell of your bottom. The shirt you haphazardly threw on last night after he made you cum, twice on his fingers and once on his cock. He doesn’t want to pressure you into anything, but he’s certain you’re going to enjoy it, and he knows your hesitance comes from some deep-rooted insecurities he’s determined to help you through, hopefully so one day you see yourself the way he does. He ups his game and shapes his lips into an exaggerated pout. **“ _please_ , angel.”**

The pair of you have had sex before, you’ve been intimate in ways that would have your mother blushing and clutching her designer pearls. But somehow, the thought of sitting astride his face as he feasts on your cunt, and the vulnerability that comes with that, makes a thousand vicious little butterflies flutter in your stomach.

 **“we can stop at any time. ‘s soon as you’re not enjoying it anymore, we stop.”** He means it, and you know it. His hands move down, tracing what he hopes are comforting littles circles on your thighs. He tilts his head, trying to meet your gaze, the softest of smiles growing on his face. You can’t help but mirror said smile, blood rushing to your cheeks as you let out a big breath, and with it (you hope) all your trepidations.

 **“ _okay_ ” **and you wished you’d said it earlier, because the excitement on James’ face makes everything else pale in comparison. You love him, and most importantly you _trust_ him. And you can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

His hands tap you on your bottom as he instructs you to **“hop on, pretty bunny.”** As you begin to crawl over his body his hands once again reach for you, grabbing at the hem of your shirt **“wait”** and he rids you of the imposing fabric covering your torso. You’re now completely bare, with tousled hair and sparkling eyes, and he notices the goosebumps that begin spreading all over your skin. **“such pretty tits, baby”** he sighs and grabs at your exposed breasts with the perfect mixture of a soft caress and a tightening grip **“ _so so pretty”._**

You’re already embarrassingly wet, and you’re sure he feels the slick that’s now smeared across his lower abdomen where you’re sat. As he helps you up his chest and onto his face, you can’t help but feel an electric current of excitement travel through your body, all the way from the very top of your head and down to your curled toes.

The only warning you get is his pained groan at the sight in front of him, your lower lips are glistening and inviting, and he’s practically drooling with anticipation. He dives in, feasting like a starved man. His hands keeping a punishing grip on your thighs, which he tightens when you begin to squirm at the overwhelming feeling of his mouth ravaging your already tender cunt.

 **“ _daddy”_** hearing you already whimpering brings an arrogant smirk to his face, a smirk you can _feel_ between your sensitive folds. **“ _pleasepleasepleaseplease”_**

You don’t even know if you’re asking for him to keep going or slow down, because your thoughts are becoming a blur, leaving you breathless and irreparably _needy_. James has always prided himself on his ability to make you into a brainless puddle of whines and whimpers in a very short amount of time. Your hands travel to your breasts searching for something to hold on to, to ground you, but he slaps them away with a quick **_“mine”_** as one of his palms quickly replaces yours. Now your hands are aimless, desperately moving from the headboard, to your mouth, then to the big hands holding on to you, only to finally find a home in the raven curls between your thighs. Your need for release is the only thing driving you at this point, and you can’t help but move your hips, grinding on his face as the pleasure becomes _too much_ and _not enough_ at the same time. Wanton moans escape your mouth and all your previous hesitations vanish into thin air.

James feels like he is in heaven. Your soft pillowy thighs are the perfect pair of earmuffs and he thinks to himself that to die between them would be the best way to go. He loves you, and he loves to watch you lose yourself in the pleasure. Pleasure that _he_ is giving you.

Your orgasm is heating up, and as your belly tightens so do your fingers gripping at his locks. You look down and it almost makes you cum right then and there. He’s messy, slurping and slobbering all over you. His face flushed due to the lack of oxygen, but he is burning with determination. Humming as he lets you ride his face, he looks up at you and he thinks that you are the most beautiful sight.

 **“let go f’me, baby”** he says between swipes of his tongue through your folds **“c’mon ’ve got you pretty girl”**

And you do let go, and it’s not even a conscious decision. The orgasm explodes inside of you, a thousand little starts travelling through your veins taking you to a place outside of your body.

But James doesn’t slow down, his movements are unwavering, only getting rougher and sloppier with each passing moment. He’s still hungry, eager to see you come undone _over and over again._

 **“s’too much, daddy”** your whimpers are pathetic, and your thighs begin to tremble as you try hold your weight above his face. **“s’too much”**

James doesn’t reply, he just groans into your cunt and uses his teeth to gently graze at your sensitive clit with the tiniest little nip. The moan that comes out of your mouth is loud and it echoes between the four walls that surround you. And it’s so beautiful, and genuine, and so full of raw uninhibited desire that James almost regrets the _muffliato_ spell he cast as soon as he set his eyes on your sleeping form.

After your second orgasm, your body loses all its strength, and you can barely keep yourself upright. This is a new position for you and you’re already extra sensitive from the night before, so James takes pity and gives you a break. Your throat is dry and hoarse after all the whines and moans and whimpers, chest still heaving from leftover sobs that wracked through your body. With a sweet kiss to your throbbing button, James eases you off of him and onto the spot beside him, your exerted body slumping unceremoniously on the bed. He has the biggest grin on his face, and eyes so full of love it’s almost overwhelming. His hands move to your flushed cheeks, brushing away strands of hair that are stuck to your tear-stained face.

There’s a couple moments of quiet, as you both recuperate and catch your breaths. His thumb rubbing soothingly on your cheekbones, and down your jaw, and over your lips, his eyes never once leaving yours. He leans over and envelops your mouth with his own, nipping at your lower lip, tongues greeting each other like old friends. You notice he’s still coated in the sweet nectar you released into his mouth, and the realization leaves you dazed.

 **“best meal I ever had, bunny”** he says once he pulls away with a mischievous glint in his eye. And you can’t help but blush as your hand slaps against his shoulder before covering your face to muffle the giggles that betray you as they escape your sticky lips. James’ hands circle around your wrists, forcing you to reveal your flushed face to him, now sporting an embarrassed smile. **“’m serious, breakfast of champions.”** And then you’re both giggling, a mess of tangled limbs and sweet whispers of _I love yous_ under rumpled sheets. And you can’t think of a better way to start the day.


End file.
